Horace arrived some fifteen minutes after Peggy's departure, and his apologies to his great-aunt were more profuse than his slight tardiness called for. Indeed, as Priscilla watched his manner toward the domineering old lady, she was unpleasantly reminded that Mrs. Duncan was a rich widow, and that Horace might cherish the hope of inheriting at least a portion of her wealth. Priscilla had all the contempt of a normal American girl for a fortune-hunter, and her lover had never appeared to less advantage in her eyes than in his obvious efforts to please his eccentric relative. In her revolt from Horace's methods she went a little too far in the other direction, and her manner as she parted from her guest was frigid rather than friendly. Mrs. Duncan's call was the first indication that Horace's people were aware of his intentions, and Priscilla had a not unreasonable feeling of resentment at being inspected to see if she would do. Although the door had been opened for Mrs. Duncan by a correctly appointed maid, Priscilla was miserably conscious that the call had not been a success, and that her unfavorable impression of Horace's great-aunt was probably returned by that terrible old person with something to spare.
CHAPTER XI
QUITE INFORMAL
Amy's memorable dinner party, which had resulted in making Bob Carey such a frequent caller, was responsible for another agreeable friendship. Bob's sister Hildegarde, if she did not fully share her brother's sentiments where Amy was concerned, acknowledged, nevertheless, to a thorough liking for the girl who had played the part of hostess under such trying circumstances. She saw considerable of Amy and, through her, had made the acquaintance of Amy's especial chums on Friendly Terrace. The girls all liked Hildegarde, and Hildegarde liked them, though she was continually accusing them of being old-fashioned in their ideas. Hildegarde had rather more spending money than was good for her, and her social ambitions were the bane of Bob's existence. Bob hated formality. He never put on his dress suit except under protest, and his popularity among his sister's friends, with the resulting invitations to all sorts of affairs, awakened his profound resentment. The simple good times of Amy's set where every one came at eight o'clock and went home at ten, exactly suited him.
There was perhaps a spice of malice back of an invitation Amy received one morning. The previous evening Bob had accompanied his sister to the home of one of her friends. He had gone reluctantly, only yielding when Hildegarde had agreed to start for home promptly at ten. There had been other callers, however, and bridge had been suggested, so that it was quarter of one when the brother and sister reached home. Bob was frankly sulky. "I hate to go down to the office in the morning feeling like a fool because I haven't had sleep enough," he declared.
"Bob Carey, any one would suppose you were an old grandfather to hear you talk. I don't know another fellow your age who thinks he has to go to bed with the chickens."
"And knowing the hours some of your friends keep," returned Bob irritatingly, "I'm not surprised at their seeming lack of intelligence. They're practically walking in their sleep."
"Please leave my friends alone. You wouldn't be particularly pleased if I began sneering at Amy."
"Sneering at Amy!" Bob's tone was scornful as he repeated his sister's words. "If you did, it would be only to get even with me."